


Metatextual Singularity

by JayMerged



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abstract, Non-Graphic Smut, Other, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayMerged/pseuds/JayMerged
Summary: The Narrator of a story finds a familiar face in The Darkness as they descend into oblivion now that the story is over.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)





	Metatextual Singularity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OptimisticRealist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimisticRealist/gifts).



> Yeah so, I wrote this for myself and someone else, but then felt sharing it out to the world without any context whatsoever because I liked how it turned out.

What is there left for the like of us to do, dear witness? Us, a presence, a concept with such unfathomably infinite influence over the context we once clung with stern elegance to, that when the time came for the curtain's call we had no place for our own self, for what remains for the desire of telling a story once the last book has been read, once the last listener has left the auditory and its illumination dies out.

To linger, we answer you the same questioning we ourselves have brought in the first place, we linger within a dim limbo betwixt purposelessness and the corrosive oblivion below, our form withstanding unhurried destruction with every pace we descend further down the latter.

Yet we dare consider ourselves fortunate, for this is the unavoidable fate of every idea, but unlike ourselves, most of them encounter their essential expiration without being granted a single chance at realization, let alone such thing as the thorough closure of purpose ourselves have been honored to receive, slipping through the eternally dark gaps amidst memories with an eased mind.

We do not even linger in solitude, we have become aware of this fact despite their best efforts to conceal their presence from us. We must recognize that their dark, amorphous form has performed well in its facade as the darkness below, however, they have misunderstood the context in which our awareness functions. Devoid of organic senses, we comprehend our surroundings on a metatextual level, discovering, with ease, them, The Darkness lurking among the darkness.

We had no need to have them catch up on our discovery, their domain was the mind itself after all. With the illusion of solitude vanquished for both us, the fooled, and them, the fooler; their stalking ceases and the distance closes between our forms.

The courting was brief and spanned infinite eternities within this timeless mindscape we shared with them, the gestures and exchanges between our forms were infinitely nuanced with unspoken rules and obscure meanings that we both perfectly understood as the purely abstract entities we were.

We were well accounted with them, they had been our most respected, and most feared, opposition during the play that brought us both forth into the light of existence to play our parts, yet we also reminisce the many times we met in the middle with them despite our often opposing goals, for we both were crafted with the exact same intent.

They were descending into oblivion along with us now that our parts have been done, once the final period in the script was reached, their shapeless form that cannot decide whether to be solid or liquid was also vanishing at the edges of itself, our shared fate clearly stated in our progressive loss of self to the eternal abyss.

Their offer was simple, union, achieve singularity, our two selves becoming a new one, to prevail, to rise from this eternal fall of undoing with new purpose.

We embraced them with our form's four limbs, welcoming change. How could surrendering our pristine individuality truly be the only cost to escaping an idea's oblivion?

Parts of their form intrude ours, producing a pair of limbs of their own to reciprocate the embrace. They only intrude zones of our humanoid form where human anatomy would usually allow entry and in such ways as to mimic a sexual act. We were already aware of their infatuation for the acts of human intercourse, part of our opposition was born from them always seeking to include such acts into the play.

We allow ourselves to feel, holding their form closer to ours, to experience their substance envelopping us, the succession of movements their form performs within ours and we allow ourselves to shake in response to their sensations, to split our pristine facade in half for our vocalizations to fill the abyss that surrounds us.

Their form shrinks between our limbs as our sense of self begins losing clarity, our form becoming a vessel for our singularity with The Darkness, desperate, we were, to experience, for we were aware this will be our last experience as our pristine self.

Then we were no more, yet we could not have ever been more than now, for we were so much that we were twice ourselves.

Then we rised.


End file.
